The Boy Who Would Be King
by Corrosive Moon
Summary: Maybe it was because deep down, Riku was stupid, desperate, and naive enough to think to do it. For RedheadNerd.


**All right, so this idea came to me while I was chatting with **_**RedheadNerd**_** via PMs. **_**RedheadNerd**_** suggested that I write another supernaturally-based **_**Kingdom Hearts**_** story and we got to thinking of this idea: in which Sora is a crossroads demon and Riku makes a deal with him. **

**There's going to be a great influence from the manga (an anime) **_**Kuroshitsuji **_**and the TV show **_**Supernatural**_**. I hope I can keep you all interested.**

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_The Boy Who Would Be King_

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Warnings: sexual content, gore 'n stuff, contracts with demons, potential content that may offend Christian minds, etc, etc.

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_Chapter 1: Dear Devil, Who Can See Right Through Me…_

Riku Yorushi shakily placed a picture of himself in a wooden box, along with several other macabre items required for the ritual. He tried to swallow the thick lump in his throat. The silver-haired teen snuck out of his room through his window. Once his feet reached the grass of his lawn beyond, he snapped his head to his bedroom door, half-expecting to see his father there, wearing that cold, indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. But he wasn't. His father was asleep two rooms down, content to think that his son would never do anything. He thought Riku wouldn't have the spine to do anything bad behind his back. Sneak out of the house? No, his nerdy, mindless, sixteen-year-old son wouldn't do such a thing, he only knew how to study and excel at everything except social life.

That's what_ he_ thought.

Riku tucked the wooden box into his messenger bag and headed down the street. It was three o'clock in the morning. There was no danger of anyone seeing him, but the silver-haired teen yanked the hood of his jacket over his head anyway. Step by anxious step, he made his way into the outskirts of town, to an isolated dirt crossroad spot that harbored a strange rumor he had heard of just yesterday.

It was ludicrous to think that burying a box with his picture, some graveyard dirt, a black cat's bone (which hadn't been Riku's favorite item to obtain) and "yarrow at the centre of the crossroad" could summon a demon that could make all your dreams come true. But Riku had been trapped for too long in his lonely tower of books and equations to throw logic into his crazy act. He needed a miracle. Who or what it came from, he didn't care anymore.

Riku dug a small hole into the center of the crossroads with his hands, placed his box inside and waited in the dark uneasily. Something rustled to his left and Riku fumbled with his flashlight to see it. Nothing.

The silver-haired teen turned back to the spot where he buried his box. Nothing. He sucked in his breath sharply and sighed. Of course, nothing would happen. It was insane to think this would actually—

"Well, hello there," whispered a voice in his ear.

Riku jumped and spun around, his hand flying to his earlobe to make sure it hadn't been chewed off or anything.

A brunet of small build stood in front of him with his hands behind his back. He was dressed in a deep red-and-black striped suit, a black tie, and shiny black, patent leather shoes. He was younger—or rather, he _looked _younger than Riku by about a year or so. His hair was a warm, chocolate brown that spiked out in nearly all directions. His face, though it seemed ordinary enough at first glance, had a certain charm. It was delicately shaped with soft cheekbones and a pouty mouth, his nose small and dainty, all traits that suggested innocence, but his eyes… They were a startling saturation of brilliant royal blue that almost seemed to glimmer.

The demon took a step forward and Riku immediately took a wary step back. The demon jutted his lower lip out.

"Oh, don't be shy, baby," he said in a sultry purr that betrayed his face. "You called me, didn't you?"

"You're the demon that grants wishes, r-right?" Riku failed at trying to sound brave.

"The very same." The demon's lips curled into a disarming smile. "The name's Sora. What can I do for you, _cher_**[1]**?"

"I-I-I… I don't… know." In truth, Riku hadn't given much thought because he didn't think this would really work. He dropped his gaze.

A surprisingly hot hand cupped his cheek, making the silver-haired teen raise his eyes.

"Don't know?" Sora echoed. "But you must want something."

Riku could only nod in response, his turquoise eyes locked onto the demon's. Those royal blue orbs seemed to peer right into him, Riku could almost feel them picking and probing inside his heart of hearts with such ease. The silver-haired teen felt frightened.

Sora smiled that charming smile again. "I should have guessed," he said, running his searing fingers down Riku's skin almost lovingly. "An overbearing father and no friends. You excel in the course your father has set for you, but you despise it because your true passion lies within literature. Your life has already been written for you, Riku Yorushi, by an author you despise," the demon breathed in deeply through his pretty nose, as if he could inhale the despair like fragrant cologne. "You think that your future is set in stone. You want to be free to make your own choices."

"Yes," Riku said with bated breath. "But I don't know how to do it. I don't think I can."

"Well, that's why you came to me, isn't it, sweetie?" The brunet patted his cheek playfully before pulling his hand away. "So, what will it be, cariño**[2]**?"

"One wish, right? And after ten years you take my soul."

"That's how it works."

"Any wish?"

"Theoretically."

"Then…"

"…Yes?" The brunet breathed.

"I wish for you to be my servant."

Riku had expected the brunet's cool features to quickly turn dark with rage. Or perhaps he had thought that Sora might simply skip the formalities and jump straight to tearing his larynx out for simply suggesting such a wish. Surely servitude to a human was something a demon would view beneath him.

But no. Instead, Sora smiled sweetly, "Done—"

"Wait! I'm not finished!" Riku interrupted. He wondered how hard he was pushing the brunet's patience. But the demon placed his hands behind his back and tilted his head expectantly, looking more amused than anything.

"I… I have a few conditions," the sixteen-year-old said hesitantly. Riku wanted to be smart about this wish. Almost every lore on demon stated that they were crafty individuals. The silver-haired teen wanted to make sure he wouldn't be loop-holed out of his deal.

"All right, shoot," Sora implored.

"You can't lie to me."

The brunet contemplated this for several seconds. "…Sure," he agreed finally.

"You have to come when I call you."

"Come how?" the demon asked, eyes lovely and half-lidded, voice husky and soft. It sounded so _naughty_ when he said it like that. "How would you like me to come, Riku?"

Riku fought for his composure. "Y-Y-You… You will go to my side when I call your name," he clarified.

"Oh," Sora pouted and sighed. "Well, that's no fun. …What else?" He asked after a moment.

"You have to do anything I say."

"Minus a couple things," the demon interjected. "One," he held up his index finger, "you can't wish for a change or annulment of the contract once it's settled. Sound fair?"

Riku nodded.

"Two," Sora raised his second finger, "you can't order me to kill myself. Agreed?"

The silver-haired teen nodded again.

"Great, anything else you'd like to add, motec**[3]**?"

Riku shook his head.

"Fantastic," Sora smiled and sauntered forward, his eerie, cerulean eyes caught the moonlight and his iridescent irises glowed like sinister fireflies in the night. "Let's confirm the contract."

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The next thing Riku knew, he was in terrible pain. Something, a knife maybe, was cutting deep into his chest. Riku would have screamed if his throat didn't feel like sandpaper. Had he been screaming earlier? …Just how long had it been since this started…?

Whimpering, Riku tried to twist away in the inky blackness, to get away from whatever was clawing into his torso. But hands, multiple hands, gripped his flailing wrists and held him still.

"_Shhh darling,"_ said a voice so unbearably sweet and yet unbearably cruel. Two fingers slathered in a hot liquid that smelled like copper—'Oh God,' Riku thought, 'that's my blood, isn't it?'—touched his parted lips. _"You're doing so well. It's almost over."_

The fingers, which were tipped with a razor-sharp talon or some sort, carefully traced an invisible line down his jaw, then his chin, and finally his pale neck. Riku shuddered and struggled to open his eye. He wanted to see his tormentor. He had the right to know that much, didn't he?

"_Oh no, baby, you don't wanna do that…"_

The sixteen-year-old ignored it.

"_You won't like what you'll see, Riku. Trust me."_

Riku opened his eyes and. He. SCREAMED.

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**The following translation notes are basically terms of endearment in different languages.**

**[1]**cher: **dear, in French.  
[2]**cariño: **dear, in Spanish  
[3]**motec: **dear, in Hebrew.  
**

** - See you next chapter!**

_**|Corrosive Moon|**_


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